Enigma
by Siese
Summary: Meeka is a stowaway, running from mercs. But what happens when she stows away on a certain murderer's ship?
1. Stowaway

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Pitch Black or Richard B. Riddick, although sometimes I like to imagine that I do…mua haha. J/K…on with the story, I guess. Anything you DO NOT recognize, however, is mine so hands off the merchandise!

Meeka tucked her hands beneath her knees and pulled her legs closer to her, burying her head in the gap she made with her body. She hadn't thought about what would happen when she boarded the small ship. She didn't want to think about it now. She'd heard what the men had been saying in the café before she'd decided to board a ship and escape the mercs who'd been chasing her.

"You see that guy who dropped by earlier this morning to get more provisions?" One of the men had asked.

"Yeah. He looked a lot like that Riddick fellow, the one who's supposed to be some psychopathic killer. Didn't know he was still on his own. I could've swore I heard that some mercs took him to Butcher Bay recently."

"Yup. He escaped."

"Really? I thought that was impossible to do."

"Apparently not for him. He's legendary, man. Kind of a scary thought that he's here, isn't it? I don't think he's staying long, though. A day at the most. He can't afford to hang around one place for very long if he wants to stay a free man. You seen him yet?"

"No, but I saw a photo of him once. He's a real big guy…um, bald headed I think, and he wears welding goggles all the time, especially in sunlight. I don't know why though."

After that Meeka had left to find a ship to leave on after her encounter with the mercs. Running wasn't as easy as she'd thought. So, she'd gone to the docks and looked for a ship that was fairly easy to get on board unnoticed. And boy, had she chosen the wrong one. As soon as she'd hidden herself away in the cargo hold, she'd heard two pairs of footsteps coming up the ramp. Taking a glance, what was she to see except the infamous and notorious Richard B. Riddick himself, and a deliveryman with two crates on a wheelbarrow-like thing.

_No! Don't tell me I got on his ship! Please! Surely God won't be that cruel. Why did I have to get on his ship?_ She considered jumping out of her hiding place to run off the ship before the ramp closed, but she didn't. She just sat there, stunned. Would he kill her if he found her? Would he just gut her with one of his infamous ships and dump her body on the nearest planet, or maybe put her through the garbage cremator? Her imagination made up thousands of twisted ways that he could and probably would use to kill her. But then, her luck got worse.

"How long are you going to be traveling, sir?" The young deliveryman asked as Riddick signed some kind of clipboard.

"Probably a month or so." Riddick replied absently.

She had to bite her lip to keep from letting out a yelp. She couldn't stay hidden for a month. There was the problem of hunger, and thirst, and she would have to go to the bathroom eventually.

The man took the clipboard and waved politely on his way off the ramp. "Have a safe journey, mister." _Apparently, he doesn't know who he is talking to_, Meeka thought to herself. She ducked behind a crate when Riddick walked by her and pressed a button on the wall beside a ladder. The ramp closed seconds later, trapping her inside with a merciless killer.

_I have such great luck…_ She thought to herself wryly. What was she going to do when she had to go to the bathroom? Her breath caught in her throat when Riddick stopped at the base of the ladder and glanced over his shoulder in her general direction. Meeka's whole body went rigid as she waited for him to move. And at last, he turned and climbed the rungs to the floor above.

Meeka let out the breath she'd been holding and slouched against the wall in her little corner, trying to make herself as comfortable as possible. She folded her arms across her chest, trying to get the feeling of vulnerability to dissipate. Her eyelids drooped, even as she heard heavy footfalls coming back down to the cargo hold. _Let him find me_, she thought to herself. _As long as I'm not conscious while he kills me, I'll be okay._ The oxygen created by the ship's ventilation system made her weak and tired. It had been that way the last time she'd been on a ship. She usually got used to it after a time, but for the first hours of the voyage always left her weak and lightheaded. Allergic, the doctor had told her eons ago. He'd said it would make her groggy for a little while, but once her body became accustomed to the artificial air that she should be just like normal.

She glanced up to see a bald head come into view over the crate, his back to her, hands on his hips as he looked around for something, turning a slow circle. When he was facing her direction and starting toward her, her heart sped up in panic, but the rest of her didn't listen to her fear. She passed out.


	2. Meeting him

Disclaimer: Go take a look at the first chapter, and you'll see geniuses….:)

And thanks to all my reviewers for my first chapter! I actually wasn't expecting that much feedback so quickly, and it made my day! Keep it up, youz guyz! Love all of ya!

Meeka woke up excruciatingly slowly, her head spinning and her eyes foggy with sleep and dizziness. She didn't even want to try sitting up, so she just lay there with her eyes closed, listening to the hum of the ship's engine. After listening to her surroundings a little closer, she heard the definite sound of movement close by her. Opening her eyes to little slits, she observed her surroundings with a keen eye, looking for the owner of the ship.

She was lying in a bedroom. To her immediate right was a solid metal bedside table attached to the floor. At the wall to her right was a closet and a door that was open, slid into the wall so that if they hit turbulence they wouldn't get smacked with it. It just slid back and forth out of the wall. And looking inside the closet was Mr. Riddick.

She watched him keenly and glanced around her again. He must've found her and put her in here while she'd been unconscious. But why not just go ahead and kill her? Surely he wouldn't want her on the ship with him. She didn't know how to pilot, so she wouldn't be any help there. And God help us all if she tried to cook something. That was why they invented the telephone—for deliveries—and microwave dinners for times when a telephone is out of reach, or the deliveryman would have to come out in the middle of nowhere—like outer space—to deliver your order.

Her eyes were drawn back to him when she heard a racket like plastic hitting metal. _Thunk!_ She frowned, not comprehending what he was doing at first because his hands were at his sides, but then he reached up again and grabbed some kind of plastic box on a shelf at the top of the closet. He jerked on it, but it looked like it was stuck on something. She watched, transfixed by the muscles on that man, as he gave it a harder jerk and it fell accurately into his open arms. He gently placed it on the floor before him and rummaged through it, and with his back to her, he blocked her from seeing what was inside the box. She saw him pull out a coiled black cord of some kind, and figured he was doing something with the ship.

"Take your time." He mumbled, his back still to her as he started toward the door. His words didn't register until he was gone. _Shit, was he talking to me?_ How had he known she was awake? He didn't even look at her the whole time he was in there! How was it possible that he would know that she'd been awake and watching him?

Still, she decided to take his advice and take her time adjusting to the waking world. She stayed in the extra large bed with the soft blankets wrapped high around her, shading even the top of her head from view. She didn't leave the bed for about one hour, and when she finally did she was utterly dreading her confrontation with Riddick.

Padding out the bedroom door, she found herself in a hallway. To her left the hallway opened out into the main room: the control room. In front of her were two closed doors, one of which she assumed to be a bathroom. She passed the unwelcoming doors and ventured into the control room, where she found Riddick sprawled out in the pilot's chair, his legs propped up on an empty space of the control panel, staring out into the empty space of the universe and the myriad stars that surrounded them.

"Sleep well?" He asked. His voice was deep and glassy, sending a shiver down her spine. He turned the chair around so he could look at her.

"Sorry." She murmured, lowering her gaze. She didn't want to look at him. He was wearing those goggles, and she hated not being able to actually _see_ the one she was speaking with.

She heard something like a chuckle from him, but it sounded like a deep growl. She looked up when she heard that. He was _laughing_? "What made you want to hide on my ship?" He inquired, hands on hips.

She gulped. She'd been waiting on that. _Okay, a question for a question. I can handle that. I'll answer his, and then he can answer mine._ "I wanted to get off that planet, but I didn't have enough money to barter passage elsewhere." She'd rehearsed that much before she'd gotten out of bed. _My turn now_. "Why didn't you kill me?"

Even through the black goggles, she could see enough of his face to see his amused expression. "Would you prefer that I kill you? It isn't too late, you know." He took a step forward, and she took one back. He didn't stop there, though. He took another step, and another, and for every step he took forward she took backward until she met the wall. And he still didn't stop. He kept going, purposefully invading her personal space, until he was inches away from her and she could feel his breath on her neck as she turned her head to the side.

"Well…your reputation was enough for me to assume you would if you found _me_." Her voice squeaked on the last word when he moved to get in her vision.

"My reputation, yes." She held up her hand to keep him from getting any closer than he already was—which was enough to make her already light head swelter with a heated headache—but he grabbed her wrists and held them above her head. She tried jerking away from him, but he didn't budge. _Like I could really make him move if he didn't want to. He's _huge _He could squash me like a bug_. She felt him shift so he held both her wrists with one of his own, and suddenly he had a shiv in his free hand, trailing the tip across the skin of her neck.

"Riddick." She turned her head to face him. If he was going to kill her then he should get on with it, but if not, then he needed to stop toying with her. "If you're going to do it, do it." She stated softly, almost challenging. She was surprised by her own boldness.

"Is that what you want?"

_What kind of question is that supposed to be? Do I want to die? Of course not, idiot._ "No, it's not, but I'm not good at waiting."

"Patience is a virtue." A small smile ached around the corners of his lips.

"One that I don't possess."

She couldn't read his expression through the goggles, but without warning he moved away from her and repocketed the shiv. She _did_, however, know when his eyes glanced up and down her body. "You can stay. Maybe I can find something for you to do."

He turned to go back to work, but she called him back. "Wait!" When he paused and turned slightly to get her in his peripheral vision, she hesitated. Now, how do you go about asking a mass murderer a question like this? "How…how long was I out?"

Riddick turned his body to the side so he could see her completely. "Two days time."

"Fuck…" She cursed under her breath. She pressed her back against the wall and slid to the ground. That was the longest she'd ever been out of it before. Of course, she wasn't exposed to a whole lot of artificial air; she wasn't on board a ship for most of the time. Maybe once she got used to it, it would get better.

"What happened?" He asked.

"Excuse me?"

"What…happened…when…you…were…downstairs?" He repeated slowly.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm allergic to artificial air."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

He shook his head. "No, I mean is the condition serious? I don't want to have a dead body I'll have to deal with. Knowing my 'reputation' as you put it, they would add your name to the list of people I've killed."

_Well gee, thanks for being so concerned with myself and not your own ass._ "No, it isn't serious. I'm awake now, aren't I? I'm guessing it'll get better after I get used to the air. I just haven't been on many ships."

He nodded curtly and put his back to her. He sat back down in the pilot's chair and started flipping a few switches. She stood, deciding on a shower. She knew she probably looked like a mess. _Yes, I'm living on a ship with a murderer and I'm worried about the way I look_. Still, she didn't want to be dirty. She opened the first door in the hall, but it was a workout room and not the bathroom. The second room was the one she was looking for.

She undressed and stepped under the spray, closing her eyes. She had a lot to think about. Like, for example, how the next few weeks would be, with her living with Richard B. Riddick. _Interesting little turn my life has taken_.


	3. Secrets

My internet hasn't been working, so that's why the updates have become less. I'm still working on it, it's just taking me a while to get them all put up on the site. Sorry for the inconvenience, I'm still badgering my dad about fixing it.

Hey, sorry if I don't get this one finished for a while. I don't know exactly where I'm going with this right now, and I'm having a bit of writer's block (grr…) but I'll try to keep posting stuff so I won't leave all ya'll hangin'. Thanks for my reviewers, and please keep up the good work. Let me know of any mistakes and I'll try to fix them. You guys just make my day! Thanks a lot!

Oh and I just remembered I forgot to have Riddick ask for Meeka's name in the 2nd chapter, so if there are any mix-ups, I'm gonna go back and change it so that he did, and then from now on—unless you wanna go back and reread it—he asked for her name. Okay? Okay. Now, on with the good part. :)

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Riddick heard the shower start up as he flipped on a computer screen. Typing in Meeka's name, a photo of her popped up onto the screen. Bronze skin, chocolate brown eyes, dark brown hair. Height: 5' 5". Weight: 124. Age: 27. She was a gorgeous girl. _Hmm_, he thought as he scanned the article beside the picture.

_Meeka Noches, convicted of the murder of two scientists and three mercenaries. She was sent to Ursa Loona, where she was to serve out a life sentence for her crimes. On March 22nd 5615, Noches escaped by unknown ways from the prison and has been on the loose since then. Bounty: 100,000 C. Last seen: May 30th 5615._

Riddick sighed. His bounty was 350,000 credits. He had also escaped from Ursa Loona, but not when this girl had. And, today was August the 31st, 5616. So, Meeka had been on the run for little more than a year. "How interesting," he muttered under his breath.

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Meeka yawned broadly as she padded down the hallway. She heard Riddick mutter something, but she decided not to ask. She just hoped he wasn't a _psychotic_ killer the way everyone else thought he was, the kind that spoke to themselves when no one was around.

The control room was so dark she almost couldn't see anything at all except for the glowing computer screen and the red and green buttons here and there on the panel. Riddick was sitting at the computer screen, but whatever he was looking at he clicked out of when he heard her enter the room.

"Wow, it's really dark in here." She mumbled and looked around, trying to decipher where it was safe to walk.

"Lights twenty percent." She heard Riddick growl, and when the lights turned on to a dim glow, she saw him settling his goggles back into place over his eyes.

On impulse, she blurted out, "Why do you wear those?" just as he asked, "Who are you?"

They both paused, sizing each other up. "Answer for an answer?" She finally asked.

"Only if you go first." He countered.

She ground her teeth together silently and nodded shortly. "Fine." She paused and took up light pacing to gather her thoughts. How to tell him something without actually telling him something? She was sure he'd do the same thing. "I'm running."

"From what, exactly, or do I already know?" He absently followed her footsteps, getting purposefully in her pacing area. When she would stop pacing on one side to turn around and start in the other direction, he would be right behind her, making her move around to him to keep moving.

"I'm running…from mercs." She continued slowly and carefully, choosing her words precisely. "I killed some people, and now there's a bounty on my head. So maybe I did good in choosing what ship to stow away on. Because you're running too, right?" She turned again to keep walking, but he was behind her again. He caught her shoulders when she tried to get around him, and had she taken one more step she would've been _inside_ him; that was how close he was standing to her.

"What was your purpose in killing the scientists?" His voice was intense and low, almost a whisper, but not. A hiss.

Her face flooded with emotion. Remembrance, sadness, anger. Unfortunately, she chose to express it with the latter of the three. "What, you did a _background check_ on me, Riddick?" She demanded.

"I've got to know who I'm traveling with. You could've been a merc for all I know." Part of her still-rational mind wondered: _why is he bothering to explain himself to me?_

"Yeah? Well, maybe I've got to know who I'm traveling with too, Riddick." She replied softly and jerked out of his grasp. She strode around him and stopped about a foot from the wall, her back to his.

Her feet barely stopped moving when suddenly she felt him collide with her, ramming her face-first into the metal wall. She yelped, but it did nothing to help her get out of the situation she was in. She could feel cool metal on her front, and a hot, hard chest on her back. She turned her head to one side, and out of her peripheral vision she could see him. He'd taken the goggles off, but she couldn't see his eyes. She couldn't move her head that far.

"Don't push it, Meeka." He growled, his lips grazing her ear.

"Don't push what, Riddick?" She asked. "Do you not trust me?" She managed to get turned around when he loosened up a little, but then she regretted it. With his body that close to hers, it was making her mind wander to places it shouldn't wander. Shouldn't _ever_ wander with this man.

"I don't trust anyone. I thought that was a little obvious."

She forced her gaze up to his eyes, almost losing her cool when she saw two orbs of glimmering silver staring back at her. _What the hell…?_ "Well, neither do I."

They stared at each other for a moment before she started to turn and leave. At the last second, he slammed his hand against the wall, his arm in front of her and preventing her from leaving. She managed not to flinch, but only barely.

"You never answered my question." He said blandly.

"What question?"

"Why did you kill the scientists?"

She turned her body to face him completely, her mind traveling again. She pushed the fantasies out of her mind and stared up at him, feeling extremely intimidated at the fact that she felt like a mouse staring into the eyes of a cobra that was just waiting for her to slip up so it could strike. "You really want to know Riddick? Hm?" She asked, all but spitting the words in his face. Some little part of her mind warned her that he probably killed most people for less than how she was acting right now, venting her anger on him. He didn't say anything—though she knew he was waiting for her to continue. "They were experimenting on me. That's fucking why. Now get out of my way." She pushed on his forearm hard enough that he moved, apparently not counting on her strength. She could've used her secret to get through him, but she didn't want to do that. She wanted to keep that hidden unless absolutely necessary. The element of surprise was all she had.


	4. Sorting Things Out

Disclaimer: Go look at the first chapter, idiots…lol.

Still don't know where I'm headed with this story, so bear with me. I'm just writing what my brain can come up with. Don't forget to read and review! It makes my day brighter to read what everyone thinks of my story.

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Meeka was overflowing with pent-up energy after that little outburst with Riddick, so she decided to take a look at Riddick's workout room. Inside was a padded floor and metal walls. In one corner was a punching bag, and in the rest of the room were a few machines and a clear area that was perhaps used for acrobatics of some kind. She figured that imagining the punching bag was all of the ones she was angry at right now would do her some good, so she wrapped her knuckles and hit the bag over and over again, focused only on the burning of her arms and the rhythm of the bag swinging back and forth slightly after she hit it.

That lasted thirty minutes before she forced herself to sit down. She couldn't even lift her arms anymore, much less try to hit something with any accuracy or strength.

"Lights ten percent." A familiar low, guttural voice announced its presence in the doorway behind her.

"Only ten this time?" She asked sarcastically.

He didn't reply, so she didn't bother trying to think of anything to say. Leave it up to the brooding one to think of something; she was too tired to think. She wanted to take a long nap on that comfortable bed across the hall…after she had a long, hot shower to help relax her muscles, of course.

She felt something brush against her back, and she spun around on instinct, trying to raise her arms in defense at the same time. Her arms protested and she winced. Riddick was crouching right behind her, elbows on knees. He wasn't wearing his goggles. She couldn't see him very well, but his mercury eyes were as vivid as the moon itself.

She stood up, and he followed slowly, almost cat-like, until he was looming over her. She cleared her throat and stared up into those eyes, feeling like she was drowning. _What is it about tall, dark and handsome men? Shut up, Meeka! What are you thinking! Don't even GO THERE! Geez, I think this air must be getting to me again._ "You never answered my question." It took her a moment to realize that was the exact words he'd used to upset her to begin with.

She watched a smirk darken his features. "Shine job," was all he said.

"And what did you need that for?" She asked, never taking her eyes from his. She noticed he was doing the same, just staring at her. She wondered what was going on behind those silver eyes.

"I was in Butcher Bay, remember?" He drawled.

_Butcher Bay_…_hmm_. She remembered hearing about Butcher Bay. It was triple max prison, supposedly impossible to escape. That is, it _was_ impossible to escape from, until Riddick came along and broke that record. The slam was a no-daylight one, one of three left in the system of its kind. _Of course…a shine job means you can see in the dark, and you see who is sneaking up on you in that God-forsaken prison._

He nodded like he could see her thoughts. "Exactly."

"Smart idea, except that now you're limited to places with little daylight."

Riddick shrugged eloquently. _How can someone that large be that graceful? It's insane!_ "I didn't like bright places even before I got the eyes done."

"Because it's easier for people to recognize you if you're out in sunshine, right?" He nodded, and she muttered, "I know the feeling…"

"What did they do to you?" He asked abruptly, tearing her from her thoughts.

"Excuse me?"

"The scientists, when they experimented on you." Even without the goggles, his face was still unreadable. She hated that about him. It made her want to shake him until he had some kind of expression on his face.

She finally looked away from him, feeling like some cord between them had been snipped with a pair of scissors, cutting them off from each other again. "Do you really want to know?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know." He replied softly.

She turned away from him, putting her back to him and pressing two fingers against both her temples. "I volunteered, but I didn't know what I was doing." She began, tearing into the surface of memories she didn't want to relive.

"I heard something from a friend about some scientists who claimed if they had a willing human specimen, that they could make someone invincible. I was twenty-four and was running a little short on money, and they said they would pay two hundred thousand a year for two years or more. I just wanted the money, and the prospect of becoming invincible wasn't that bad either. I signed up for an interview later that month.

"Apparently, I had something in my character they liked. They talked to me for a while—a few hours I think—and then they told me I had the job. They gave me a portion of my earnings, and told me they wanted to get started. I didn't know what was going to happen to me.

"I saw no humans except the scientists for around two years. Every test they ran felt like my skin was being torn off my body. It hurt so much." Tears welled up in the bottom of her eyes, and when Riddick tried to turn her around to look at him she tore herself away from him. She didn't want to look at him, not when she was telling the story of her stupidity. She gripped her elbows and continued. "Anyway, that went on for two years. Tests twenty-four hours a day, and if I ever slept it was because the pain had rendered me unconscious.

"So finally, I woke up one day and when they tried to touch me I kind of…went _through _them…" She reached out into the air in remembrance before balling her hand into a fist and bringing it back to her body. "I killed the two in the room with me and ran. I wanted to get away. I didn't want them to touch me anymore. It just hurt too much. I ran, and when I was spotted again a few months later it was in a crowded street with three mercs attacking me. I killed all three of them, and I ran again. All the money I made was gone from my account, so I had to live on the streets or pick pockets to survive. I hid on that planet where I killed the mercs, until you came along. And that brings us up-to-date." She ended sourly, staring at the wall in front of her.

She felt a warm arm wrap itself around her own cold arms, and a chin on her shoulder made her remember who it was that was trying to comfort her.

"Riddick, don't." She said, trying to pull away from him. He didn't budge, so she in turn couldn't move away. He absently pulled at the wraps still on her knuckles, and when his fingers brushed over her hands she yelped. "Ow!"

"You shouldn't have hit that thing so hard. You messed your knuckles up." He chided lightly, brushing his fingertips across the bruises and cuts.

She noticed he had his own set of scars on his knuckles, and she replied with, "You're one to talk." She touched the scars lightly, and he chuckled.

"That doesn't make it all right for you to do it, though."

She sighed. There was a little part of her mind screaming at her, _He's a murderer! He's a murderer! You idiot, what the hell are you doing? Stop flirting and step AWAY from the killer!_ But she didn't want to listen to that part of her head. It was overreacting.

"Are you?" She hated that. She hated how he just said things out of the blue and expected her to catch on.

"Am I what?" She turned her head innocently to look at him, regretting it immediately, though. His chin was on her shoulder, and when she turned her head their lips were almost touching.

"Invincible."

She looked away. "No. They didn't finish their experiments."

"Then how did you walk through them?"

"That was one thing they did get finished with. Just don't move, all right?" She turned around in his arm, and he didn't move his arm from her lower back because she'd told him not to move.

Trying to focus on what she was trying to do and not the position she was in, she tore at all the tiny cells in her body like it was paper. Instantly, she felt her body disintegrating from the inside out. She stepped through him calmly, silently enjoying the way he gasped in surprise. That was the first emotion out of him since they'd met. She stored all her cells back together, and when she was solid again she was behind him.

She turned around as he did, and she smirked when she saw his hand on his chest.

"That's a handy trick." He muttered.

She laughed aloud happily, surprising herself and Riddick. She didn't think she'd laughed since she'd boarded the ship. It felt wonderful. "Yes, I suppose it is."

They trailed off into silence, and suddenly she realized how close they were standing, just staring at each other. She opened her mouth to speak, but it took her a few seconds to find her voice. "Um…I…I'm going to go take a shower." She mumbled and turned away from him, feeling agonizingly self-conscious of the fact that she could feel his eyes on her back.


	5. Darkness

**I own nothing. I just wish I did.**

**And thanks to all my reviewers. I know I haven't updated in a while and I'm SORRY! My computer was screwed up for a while, but I'm trying to catch up on the time I missed. Please hang in there with me! I'm working hard, I promise!**

**Now, on with the good part.**

Meeka was standing in the shower and had just finished rinsing her body of all the soap when she heard a crashing sound, followed by the whole ship vibrating violently. She cried out and fell through the shower curtain, pulling it off the rings, and when she landed on the floor it was constricted around her. She stared up at the lights as they flickered and went out, followed by dead silence. The vibrating stopped when the lights went out, and any regular noise made by the ship, like the low humming as it moved through space, was completely gone.

Engulfed in darkness, she tried feeling her way around. She found her clothes and dressed hastily. She shrugged the shirt on—though she could swear it was on backwards—and another sound filled her ears. Another crashing sound, but this one sounded like it was made somewhere _inside_ the ship.

She left the bathroom, wondering where the heck Riddick was. Out in the hallway, she had to stop moving, though. She couldn't see a thing. From the looks of things, the power had gone out, which could be very bad for them if Riddick couldn't fix it from the inside.

"Riddick, where are—?" She was cut off by a strong hand wrapping itself around her throat and shoving her into the wall. She frantically searched for silver eyes through the darkness, but there wasn't any. Whoever this was, it wasn't Riddick.

_Mercs!_ Meeka thought and slammed her knee between the attacker's legs. He yelled in pain, and then she _knew_ he wasn't Riddick. He didn't have the same deep voice as Riddick. So then, a new question came up in her mind. _Where _is_ Riddick?_

Her thoughts were interrupted as someone else tackled her from the side. She yelped in surprise and landed beneath a large body, but not quite as large as Riddick. It still wasn't him. She barely felt a knife on her throat when suddenly she caught a glimpse of silver somewhere over the man's head. It disappeared briefly, and then she felt the weight being lifted off of her. She still couldn't see anything, so she carefully dragged herself away until she thought she was safe.

_What if he can't fight them alone?_ She'd killed before, but she was at a disadvantage here. She didn't have a weapon, and they did, and she couldn't see them. _But they can't see me, either._ When Riddick growled in pain, he made her decision for her.

She jumped to her feet, and she saw fleeting silver eyes as he glanced at her. _That's how they can see you, Riddick, by looking for your eyes. I guess there's more than one downside to having shined eyes._

"Close your eyes!" She yelled as she ran in the direction she'd seen him. He must've have gotten the idea, because she didn't see his eyes again. Hearing the shuffling of footsteps, she swept her foot out and made contact with someone's ankles. The guy grunted as he hit the ground, giving her another clue as to where he was. Before he could stand, she was on top of him and searching him. She felt the hilt of a dagger and yanked it out of his belt and shoved it into the soft spot of his stomach.

She heard the crack of bone a second later and a thump beside her. Riddick must have killed the other one. She didn't really want to know which bone she heard cracking. She figured it was his neck.

And yet another thump reminded her that she'd heard Riddick get hurt a few minutes ago. She forced herself to stand up and she fumbled around, searching for something to light up the room a little so she could see. Her hands finally closed on a flashlight, and she switched it on eagerly. The light was bright, and the flashlight was a big one. She couldn't wrap her hand all the way around it.

Turning to Riddick, she saw him hold his hand up to shade his exposed eyes from the bright light. He was on his knees, and his upper left arm had a deep, bleeding gash in it. She grimaced when she saw it, and she wasn't even the one with the injury. She knew he must be in pain, even if he didn't show it.

"Ugh…" Meeka said and reached inside a nearby cabinet for the first-aid kit. "Come with me." She walked to the bathroom door to turn around and wait for him…but he hadn't even stood up. He just stared at her. "What are you waiting for? That needs stitches."

Finally, he stood up and walked to her, but he didn't go into the darkened bathroom. He stood in front of her and gazed down at her, making her gulp silently. His proximity was…distracting. She figured he knew that and that was why he was doing it.

"And what makes you think you should be the one to fix me up?" He challenged.

Accepting that challenge, she brought her gaze up to his mercury one, this time staring _him_ down. "I can't fix this ship by myself, and you can't do stitches with one hand. Now, go in there and sit down." She pointed to the bathroom, and to her surprise he chuckled and strode inside.

_How interesting that he's letting me order him around like this. Wonder where he'll draw the line_? He sat down on the counter by the sink and waited patiently for her to set everything up. She withdrew the curved needle and the thread and doused them both in alcohol.

"Are you ready?" She asked, and he just shrugged.

The first few stitches were put in with utter silence and darkness except for the flashlight. Meeka hated awkward silences like these. She thought frantically of something to say, and she finally settled on a question she wanted to ask: "How did the mercs get in here, Riddick?"

He paused and thought for a minute before replying. "They attached their ship to ours and hacked into the system to get our hatch open. You can use your imagination for the rest."

"So we have another ship on top of us right now?"

"Beside us actually, but yes."

"What are we going to do with it?"

"Take any provisions we can find on it, put the mercs back inside it, and send it out into space." He replied emotionlessly.

"Sounds like a good plan to me." She announced optimistically. He gave her an inquiring glance, and she shrugged. "You're the pilot. I have to do what you say…to an extent; don't get all controlling on me or I might have to take you down a notch or two…so I might as well be _reasonably_ happy about it, right?"

She watched him stand up, figuring _maybe_ she said something wrong. "_You_ might have to take _me_ down a notch or two?"

She bit her lip briefly in thought and nodded slowly. "Yes…like right now. Sit down, darling, I still have three more stitches to do before I'm letting you out of this bathroom alive." She ordered facetiously.

He did nothing but stare at her for a moment before he finally complied and sat back down, much to Meeka's surprise. Again, she wondered why she was getting to order him around. Why he was _letting_ her order him around.

She started her work again as he mumbled, "Darling, huh?"

Meeka rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. I was being sarcastic."

"I bet."

Glancing up at him and seeing him glance down at her, she smirked visibly. He wanted to play? Okay, she could play. She shoved the needle through the skin of his arm where she was putting the stitches in and twisted it. But she hadn't counted on him. He snatched her wrist and jerked her arms above her head, slamming her into the wall.

"That hurt." He growled.

"Good, that was what I was going for." She teased back, catching his gaze and winking evilly.

He plucked the needle out of her fingers and pointed the tip in her face. "I don't trust you with this anymore."

Slowly, she reached up and took it away from him. "And I don't trust you to give yourself stitches with one hand. Pilots need their arms to fix the ship that isn't moving anymore and to steer it. You let me do the bloody stuff, and I let you do the mechanical stuff, deal?"

Riddick sighed and let her arms go. She flexed her fingers, not enjoying the tingling feeling of having all the blood rush back to her hands so quickly. "Great. Now look what you did."

"What did I do?" He asked, not moving away from her.

"You made my fingers go numb. I _might_ just let my fingers slip." She threatened, only to hear a low growl erupt from his chest. "I'm kidding."

"Sure you are. If your fingers are numb, you wait for a few minutes until you can feel them again, got it?"

"Sit." She saw the wary expression he gave her, but he complied anyway and sat down on the counter again. She finished up the stitches in silence and cleaned the wound with a wet rag. After that, she put some gauze on it and wrapped it up to hold it on there.

"Okay. All done. Now, what happened to our ship and why are we not moving?" She asked as she put up the med kit and retrieved the flashlight.

"I don't know yet. That's what I plan on finding out." He stood up, stretched his injured arm, and left her alone in the dark room. She followed him, feeling uneasy when it was deathly silent and unbearably dark. Maybe he could see, but she was basically blind, and she didn't like the way it made her feel so insignificant.

She walked out to see him carrying the two bodies, one thrown haphazardly over each shoulder. He walked over to the open hatch and threw them into the floor of their small ship. He scrounged around for a minute, ignoring Meeka standing in the hatch doorway, and found another medical kit, a few boxes of unopened food, and two guns and four shivs. After getting everything he wanted, he walked out of the ship, closed the hatch, and pressed a button against the wall. Meeka had no idea what the button did, but a second later the heavy vibration began again and she was stumbling across the room. She collided against some anonymous object and just held on and waited for the vibration to cease. Seconds later, they were plunged into silence again.

"Odd…" She heard Riddick mumble above her. Wait…_above her?_ She looked up to see that it had been Riddick she'd collided into and was now holding onto, her arms wrapped around his waist. He didn't seem to notice. He was staring up at the ceiling.

"What's odd?"

"Our power should've come back on when the ship was dislodged." He murmured and ran to the control panel. A few seconds later, before she could even begin to follow him to the panel, she heard a loud, "_Shit!"_

"What is it?" She asked, concerned.

"They knocked out our power."

"Which means…?"

"Which _means_ that our heat has been cut off, our air has been cut off, our lights aren't working, our water isn't working, and we aren't moving anymore, we're just kind of floating in place."

"Yeah, I'd say that's pretty bad. Can you fix it from the inside?"

Riddick shrugged with his back to her as he stared at the controls. "Maybe. If I can get to the wires underneath, maybe I can rewire it so that it'll run long enough to get me to a planet to work on it where it needs it most."

"Sounds like a plan to me. I'd help, but I'd probably screw it up worse."

She thought she might have heard him chuckle, but it could've been her imagination. "Um…I think I'm gonna go get some sleep, okay?"

He nodded a few times, still not looking at her. She turned and started toward the hallway, but stopped before she went into the hall and looked back at him. "Riddick?"

"Hm?"

"Can I use the bed?"

This time he did turn to look at her. His silver eyes gleamed mysteriously, making her knees weak. _God, Meeka, get over it. He's a murderer and it would just be too weird and STOP THINKING THAT RIGHT NOW! _That last thought was for the fantasy images popping into her head that were too…crazy to think about.

He nodded again. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll probably be up for a while. Have at it."

She smiled slightly and stepped through the threshold into the blackened bedroom. Using her trusty flashlight, she made her way to the bed and stripped off her shirt. _Now wait just one minute, Meeka. Be careful about stuff like that from now on. What if he was standing in the doorway when you did that just now?_ She turned as if to make sure he wasn't really there. She closed the door and then glanced around. She needed coverage, but not her clothes. Her clothes weren't the kind you would sleep in. Opening the closet door, she found some black beaters on the top shelf. She didn't think he'd mind if she used one. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up and pulled one down. She eyed it briefly before pulling it over her upper body. _Baggy, but comfy._ It wasn't large enough to reach her knees. It just came barely below her hips, and it was one of the older ones that was broken in. She smiled and wrapped her arms around herself.

_It smells like him_. It was a musty, male scent, but clean. She decided she liked the way he smelled as she climbed under the blankets of the huge bed and tucked the top of the covers under her chin.

**Okay guys, there's another chappie. Sorry its been so long! I'm so sorry you guyz! I had major writers block. I promise I'll do better. I'll start on the next chapter right now, ok? And don't forget to read and review...it keeps me alive and gives me more of a reason to keep WRITING...wink wink nudge nudge. :)**


	6. Tuna?

I don't own anything. And I promised I would post this soon, so here it is. Writers block is the devil, don't you know? Grrr…ah well. What can you do? I'm trying, I really am!

Meeka awoke very slowly. The darkness was as dark as it always was. She hoped Riddick would fix the ship soon. The last thing she needed was to be tripping all over the place while Riddick sat back and laughed at her because he could see and she couldn't.

She started to roll over and look at the door, but her back abruptly met a hard bare chest. She bit her lip fearfully and grabbed for the flashlight beside the bed cautiously. Flicking it on, she saw Riddick on the bed beside her. There was only one difference, one thing separating them. She was buried under the blankets, and he was on top of them. _Well at least he's a gentleman…to an extent_. There was one small problem she noted now, however. His arm was draped across her waist, preventing her from getting up. _Oh goody…now what do I do? Just wait for him to get up first? I don't think he'll buy it if I pretend to be asleep. He doesn't seem like the type that I can fool very easily_.

Carefully, she wrapped her slender fingers around his wrist on her side and lifted. His arm proved heavier than she thought. She had to bite back a laugh suddenly at the position she was in, trying to get away from him without much luck. The laugh turned into a snort of a sort, and the almost inescapable ball of laughter gathering in her throat made her muscles weak.

"You're making this difficult, Riddick." She hissed, trying to breathe and keep away the laughter that still threatened to overtake her.

Then a sudden noise filled her ears. Laughter. But it wasn't hers. It was Riddick's.

"You were awake the whole time!" She accused. He didn't reply, so she pushed his arm away, in the process rolling him onto his back. She stood up on the bed, mumbling how rude that was for him to make her think he was still asleep.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He growled softly as she stepped over him and reached the edge of the bed.

"Why not?" She asked and hopped off the bed. The icy cold floor greeted her bare feet, and with a shriek she jumped back onto the bed, landing on the body lying there.

Riddick grunted when her bottom hit his thighs and his arms instinctively wrapped around her hips to make the collision less painful for his lower region. Then, he just let her go and lay down on the bed with his arms outstretched on either side of him.

"I told you not to get down." She felt him shrug beneath her. She didn't want to move, even if she was on top of him. That would mean putting her feet on that floor again, and she hadn't woken up enough for that.

_Sarcasm is wonderful_, she thought just before she spoke. "No, you didn't. You said if you were me you wouldn't do **_that_**. First of all, I didn't know what 'that' was; you should've specified. And second, you're not me, are you?"

"Do you know how easy it would be for me to throw you onto the floor right now?" He asked with eyes closed.

"Please don't."

"What will you do for me if I don't?"

"Oh, it's going to be like that, is it?" She asked and nodded slightly, wondering what a man like Riddick might want.

"Yes, it's going to be like that."

"Okay, fine. How about if you don't throw me in the floor, I'll make you breakfast? That way, you don't have to worry about working on the ship _and_ making something to eat. I can help you that much."

He contemplated her proposition for a few moments before sitting up abruptly and holding out his hand for her to shake. _Wow, he's really close to me when he sits up like that._ She stared him straight in those pools of silver before taking his hand, her eyes still not leaving his.

"Something wrong?" Riddick inquired when she just gazed at him.

She shook her head. "No. I just…nothing."

"What?" Was that a smile she saw etching his features? Surely not.

"I just…I don't know. I like your eyes." She finally blurted out.

"Where are you headed when you get up off of me, huh?" Again, she felt irritation at his sudden change of the subject. She wasn't good at following him when he did that. That one was all right for her small mind to process, but sometimes he just asked things out of the blue. Was that a mental disorder or something?

"Well, a hot shower sounds great on this freezing morning, but we have no water, right?" He nodded, so she stared into his eyes while she thought. "I guess I'll go to the kitchen and make breakfast. Are the kitchen appliances functioning?"

He shrugged. "Wouldn't hurt to check it out, I guess."

She nodded and started to stand up, when suddenly he swept his arms under her, one under her legs and one around her waist. She yelped and clung to his neck: the only solid thing for her to hold onto. He stopped beside the door and bent down. "Grab your boots." He said, and she reached down and picked them up in one hand. "Good girl."

"Am I a dog now, Riddick?" She questioned him jokingly.

He stopped walking and stared down at her as if deciding if she was or not, and she slapped his bare chest for even _considering_ that she was a dog. He laughed when she hit him, but he didn't say anything.

In the kitchen, he placed her on the table so she wouldn't have to stand up on the floor. When she was sitting down, her eyes level with his chest, she looked up at him and announced, "Maybe you're not as bad as they all say you are."

She couldn't see his expression through the darkness, just the silver glow of his eyes. "I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult."

She shrugged. "Take it as a compliment. It's nice to know that I'm not traveling with an emotionless killer."

"And what if I'm the one traveling with an emotionless killer."

She stared up at him and narrowed her eyes. Pulling her boots on, she stood up, counting on him to take a step back. He didn't…which meant when she stood up her clothes brushed his bare, tanned chest. "I'm a female, Mr. Richard B. Riddick." She smiled broadly. "I'm _never_ emotionless. I guarantee that, and you'll see soon enough."

He just made a grunting noise in reply, still not moving away from her. The backs of her legs were pressed against the table in an attempt to get space between them, but they were still almost touching. Unable to stand it any longer, she pushed on his chest. "You need to fix this ship, Riddick. Go. I'll come get you when breakfast is ready, all right?"

"Yes, master." He muttered, but he turned and left the room.

Relieved to have her space back, she sat back down on the table to catch her breath. _Sometimes I think he does that on purpose, and he knows what it does to me._ Shaking herself, she began opening the cabinets and the refrigerator, wondering what he usually ate for breakfast. She tried turning the oven on, but it didn't work. _Figures_, she thought sadly. She finally settled on canned tuna, which was almost the only canned food besides beans she found remotely enticing. It wasn't the greatest breakfast meal she'd ever made, but it was edible. She put a dab of mayonnaise in it and chopped up a pickle for a little extra flavor and stirred it all up in a bowl. _He's going to think I'm crazy because it took me two minutes to fix breakfast…I bet he hasn't even started working on the ship yet. Should I wait for a little while?_

Her thoughts were cut to a screeching halt when she heard someone speak softly, their lips grazing her ear. "You fixed _tuna_ for breakfast, Meeka?"

She forced a smile to hide her surprise. _Guess I won't have to wait for him after all_. "Yeah, the microwave and all that good stuff wasn't working, so something canned was all there was to eat." Meeka explained. _God, I'm getting so tired of him doing this to me_. She could feel him behind her, feel his body heat emanating off of him, feel his breath skimming across her neck. She growled under her breath, picked up the bowl of tuna, and shoved her back into his chest. She hadn't counted on actually _moving_ him out of the way, so when he stumbled, she did too. For a moment she feared he would fall and she would wind up lying on top of him on the floor, but at the last second he reached past her and grabbed the countertop, bringing her to a sudden stop…even closer to him than before.

"I bet that worked out just the way you hoped, right?" He asked facetiously.

"Oh, shut up, Riddick."

The next thing she knew the bowl was on the counter and he was shoving her into the refrigerator, yanking her arms above her head.

"Riddick, what the—?"

"Quiet!" He hissed, shutting her up instantly with fear.

He just stared at her with those mercury orbs, studying her. For a moment she thought he wasn't going to say anything, but at last he narrowed his eyes and announced softly, "I don't like tuna."

"Well, that's too bad. You have the mercs to thank for that. Now if you don't mind…" She drew her hands away from the fridge and rubbed them, shooting him a glance with narrowed eyes, silently promising to pay him back for that as soon as she got the chance. She handed him a bowl and a spoon and sat down across from the table from him.

They ate in silence, and as soon as Riddick was finished he stood up, placed his dishes in the sink, and announced, "Going back to work. Stay out of trouble."

_Trouble?_ Meeka wondered. _What's that supposed to mean, Riddick?_


	7. Yoga

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to TCOR or Pitch Black and I don't own any of Nickelback's band members or songs! I just wish I did.

Okay, I have some reviewers to talk to. Mua haha… 

I'm so sorry for not updating sooner! I went back and looked at all my stories today and I was like, "Whoa! The last time I wrote in this is was MAY! And now it's OCTOBER!" So I thought I should try and write some more. Plus, I went back and reread this whole story and I actually laughed at some of my own writing. It made me happy to read it, so now I want to update it again. Yay! Go me! Coughs Anyway…

**Letreen: Yes, the floor is cold because the temperature went down while they were sleeping due to the power outage. And Meeka has black hair and sapphire blue eyes…sorry I forgot to include that. I may add it somewhere, but now that you know I don't suppose it's a must. And I may write a chapter like the one you mentioned, but I don't know when.**

Satiana: Yeah I know, I like tuna too. That was why I made her fix it. :) And I tried making it out to be he got mad at her for telling him to shut up and put a cork in his anger and just decided to tell her he didn't like tuna.

Now that that's over and done with, on with the story, mates! 

When Meeka left the kitchen, it was to see Riddick lying on his back under the control panel. The metal part covering all the cords had been removed and leaned casually against the wall beside the kitchen door.

Meeka sighed. Riddick would be indisposed for a while, so there would be no entertainment there. She couldn't even annoy him, unless she wanted him to take longer fixing the ship, and she didn't want that. She _wanted_ the hot water back. She _needed_ to shower. It was her ritual to shower everyday, and when she couldn't…things could get ugly. Things like her, for example. There was really nothing wrong with the way she looked presently, but she _felt_ dirty and that was all that mattered to her.

So, of course she had to disregard that and make herself as dirty as possible, whether she realized what would be the outcome in the end or not. She went to the workout room to find something to do. It was going to be a long day, and she would need to do something to occupy her mind.

She carried the enormous flashlight with her and faced it toward the ceiling to try and give her enough light to see with. She was beginning to have quite a bond with the hunk of metal and plastic. It still left shadows in the corners of the room, but it was adequate enough. She hit the punching bag in certain intervals, taking time to work other muscles in between. There was one machine where she lifted herself up by her arms and raised her legs up and down, up and down, up and down, to work her stomach muscles. Push-ups and sit-ups were also added in there. She did diamond push-ups, one-handed push-ups, crunches, and the real hardcore sit-ups. She started on yoga when she got tired.

She was sitting cross-legged on the padded floor with her shoes off—they were tossed carelessly in a corner. Her eyes were closed, and her hands were resting on her knees. She was breathing in and out, counting each breath for ten beats. In for ten, out for ten. All while she was doing this, she was trying to clear her mind of everything. She was focused somewhere outside the room and her own mind, somewhere that was nothing but silence and peace. She was so engrossed in this activity that she didn't notice she wasn't alone anymore.

"What are you doing?" Riddick's gravelly voice broke through her peace and startled her rudely back into reality.

"I was doing yoga." She said defensively, staring at the shadowy silhouette in the doorway.

He nodded and walked silently over to her. _It still amazes me that such a large man can be oh so graceful._ She watched in fascination of his movements as he sat down in front of her, legs crossed like hers.

"So what are you doing?"

"I told you." She replied. "Yoga."

Blank, goggled stare.

She frowned. "Take them off."

"Why?" His voice was barely a growling whisper. Meeka had never heard a voice like his before. It was somewhat intriguing to hear him speak. Well…okay more than somewhat, but she wasn't willing to admit to herself that she liked the way he spoke more than '_somewhat_'.

"Because I want to see your eyes."

He shrugged and took the welding goggles off. They were placed delicately beside him. _Maybe I should hide them from him later. He'd probably slit my throat if I do, but maybe I can get some expression on his face if I do_. _It might be worth dying to see at least a **little** surprised expression on his face_. She was beginning to think of him besides just your regular 'oh-my-God-he's-a-psycho-killer' kind of person. He wasn't really like that to her anymore, especially after waking up in the same bed with him. Well, technically they weren't in the same bed because he was on _top_ of the blankets. Still…that was beside the point.

"You never answered my question." He announced quietly.

Meeka frowned, his deep voice bringing her back out of her thoughts almost rudely. "What question?"

"What are you doing?"

"Yoga."

"How? Show me."

Her eyes narrowed. "I don't even get a 'please'?"

His moonlight eyes narrowed in return. "No. Now show me."

_Yes master_, she thought sarcastically but refrained from speaking it aloud. She didn't doubt that he'd find some way to throw it back in her face. "Okay, fine. Close your eyes."

Another blank stare.

"If you want to know how to do yoga then you have to trust me. So, close your eyes." She folded her arms across her chest determinedly. "There's no other way to do it."

She could've sworn she saw that hardcore murderer _roll his eyes at her_ like he was a little teenage girl or something. But, she disregarded it. Surely someone of his reputation wouldn't do something so…so like…well…her. Nonetheless, he closed his eyes like a good little boy. Gooooood Riddick. Now roll over. Play dead! Good boy. Have a cookie—or a merc to toy with and kill slowly, whichever you prefer.

"Now," she continued now that he'd obeyed so far, "forget about everything around you. Think only of peace and blessed silence. Don't think about any of your problems or anything in this physical world. Go to a higher plain. Let your mind slow to a halt so that no worries trouble you and no problems disturb you." Meeka thought she was doing quite well. Even in the dim light of her lovely flashlight, she could see the unconscious lines in Riddick's face relaxing. _Yoga works wonders for the soul, people._

With a sudden wicked idea that she knew she would be hurting for later, Meeka pulled her feet silently beneath her so that she was in a crouching position, her hands on the padded floor between her and Riddick. If he were doing his yoga right, he wouldn't hear anything until it was too late.

Not making any noise whatsoever—and also quite proud of herself for being so quiet—she pounced on 'The Riddick', who wasn't quite expecting it…to say the least.

The large man toppled backwards with the petite female atop him. She let out a squeal of laughter, finally seeing that surprised expression she'd been hoping to see overtake his face. For a killer, Riddick could be quite entertaining.

Meeka just hadn't been expecting whatever reaction he might have once he realized what she did.

He wrapped one enormous arm around her waist, and with a grunt he rolled over. Flipping his legs out before she could even grasp what he'd done, he was straddling her, her forearms pinned down by his knees.

"Meeka." He cooed in that baritone voice of his. "Why would you do something like that?"

She struggled feebly to move her arms out from under his weight. Not to mention the position they were in was giving her more strange fantasies to try and ban from her mind. "Riddick…I'm sorry. It was…a spur of the moment kind of thing. And—I'm having problems breathing. Can you get off me?" _Not true. You aren't having trouble breathing!_ Her mind was shouting at her.

He leaned over her, his face inches from hers. Now she really _was_ having trouble breathing. "How about now?" He asked innocently.

"Riddick!" She coughed and spluttered uselessly. "I can't—I can't breathe! You're too…heavy. I can't…" She held her breath and closed her eyes, going completely limp on him. She doubted this would have any effect on him, but hey. You can't blame a girl for trying the 'damsel in distress' number, can you?

Well, he did have a response to that, but not the one she expected _or_ appreciated. She felt his fingers viciously attack her sides, and the next thing she realizes she's being tickled! Imagine that. Richard B. Riddick is tickling someone. I know it's hard to believe. Meeka didn't believe it at first.

While he'd been tickling her, he'd forgotten to keep his weight situated over her arms, and she jerked her arms free and sat up, beating her flat palms against his chest in an attempt to fight him off—interesting of her to think she can _fight_ Riddick off, eh?

He stopped tickling poor Meeka, who by now had tears streaming down her face, and stared at her with that emotionless mask on his face. She sniffed and stared up at him, suddenly very aware of how they were sitting. She was now sitting up, and his legs were hugging her hips loosely.

His eyes seem to grow larger, to fill her vision, and she closed her eyes when he went out of focus. She could barely feel the barest hint of warm lips against hers when abruptly his weight was gone from her lap. She heard footsteps, and when she turned around to look at the door he was gone.

**Oh! Take that! I'm finished! Are you not so happy? Now, please review! I need to know how I've handled this chapter after hanging it in the closet known as my mind for so long. Please review this chapter and let me know how I did. How was the ending? Too soon? Not enough? Tell me! I know this chapter was looooooong overdue, too, so I expect a little chewing out for that. At least I updated, though! I still have yet to update my Pirates of the Caribbean one. Maybe I'll look at that tomorrow after we get back from the movie theatre…me and my boyfriend are going to go see Elizabethtown! Yippee! Orlando Bloom and my sexy boyfriend all in one day! That makes me very happy. Anyway. Enough of my rambling. Moving on. REVIEW!**


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